Yvain Dans Pas Courageux - Le Boui-boui, Lyon

Le Boui-Boui welcomes Yvain in Pas courageux

At Le Boui-Boui, we thrive on intimate, high-voltage encounters between artist and audience, and that is exactly what Yvain brings to our stage with Pas courageux. From the first beat, the room’s closeness turns into his ally: every breath, glance, and pause feeds the laughter that swells a few centimeters from the mic. The title promises an evening about fear, hesitation, and everyday stumbles, and our crowd knows that this is fertile ground for an agile storyteller with a taste for self-deprecation. Yvain’s new hour is built for a room like ours—lean, playful, and quick on its feet—shaped over months of testing lines, tightening beats, and leaning into the unique electricity of Lyon’s live comedy culture. Expect a performance that is both finely engineered and joyfully risky, the kind of set where a throwaway aside can become the night’s most quoted punchline. As a venue that champions creation, we’re thrilled to host him as he pushes this material to the next level, savoring those moments when a fresh idea catches fire and the audience collectively decides to follow him anywhere.

What makes Pas courageux sing at Le Boui-Boui is the way Yvain turns micro-panics into grand adventures. In our low-lit room, with the audience wrapping around the stage, he treats the smallest embarrassments—an awkward text, a buzzing phone in the wrong pocket, the split second before a door opens—as epic quests. The set flows like a confession you didn’t mean to make and then can’t stop, with nimble jumps between storytelling and razor-clean observational beats. Without spoiling surprises, our team has taken to nicknaming a few recurring moments, because they land so hard and so consistently: “Bureau des Paniques,” where a normal errand spirals into catastrophe management; “Mode Avion,” a spiraling riff on switching off to switch on; “Le Héros du Dimanche,” a playfully grandiose portrait of weekend bravery; and “Playlist de la Honte,” a musical minefield of guilty-pleasure revelations. Yvain’s timing sits in the pocket, elastic and precise; he’ll stretch a silence until you can feel the grin across the room, then flick the tension away with a perfectly placed tag. Our lighting and sound teams keep things crisp and warm, with subtle cues that underline the turns without ever stepping on the jokes, letting the performance breathe and the crowd’s reactions steer the rhythm of the night.

What’s new with the artist, right now at Le Boui-Boui

As a living show, Pas courageux evolves each time Yvain returns to our stage, and that evolution is part of the draw. This season, he’s refining new sequences, sliding fresh transitions between bits, and experimenting with audience interplay that changes from one performance to the next. You’ll hear a tightened arc, sharper callbacks, and a few brand-new detours that he’s been workshopping exclusively in rooms like ours. That’s the heart of his current artistic momentum: fear embraced as fuel, hesitation repurposed into punchlines, and the candid chaos of real life turned into shared catharsis. Our regulars know to listen for subtle variations—where “Bureau des Paniques” might pick up an extra layer of physicality one night, “Mode Avion” gets a new sting the next—because Yvain enjoys planting small, evolving details that reward repeat visits. He’s leaning into the club’s intimacy to stretch his improvisational muscles, folding spontaneous audience moments into the spine of the set so cleanly that first-timers mistake them for scripted jewels. At Le Boui-Boui, we’re proud to be the room where this material is maturing in real time, where the laughter isn’t just a response but a collaborator, and where Yvain’s craft—honest, elastic, and wonderfully human—finds exactly the scale it deserves.